To write love on her arms

"To Write Love on Her Arms began in Orlando, FL in February 2006 as a (written) story, the true story of five days spent with a friend who was denied entry into a drug treatment center. The story was a look at those five days, and the t-shirts were printed and sold initially as a way to pay for our friend's treatment.

The vision is that we actually believe these things…

You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.

We live in a difficult world, a broken world. My friend Byron is very smart - he says that life is hard for most people most of the time. We believe that everyone can relate to pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know that you're not alone in the places you feel stuck.

We all wake to the human condition. We wake to mystery and beauty but also to tragedy and loss. Millions of people live with problems of pain. Millions of homes are filled with questions – moments and seasons and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay. We know that pain is very real. It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real, and that help is real.

You need to know that rescue is possible, that freedom is possible, that God is still in the business of redemption. We're seeing it happen. We're seeing lives change as people get the help they need. People sitting across from a counselor for the first time. People stepping into treatment. In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline. We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it's worth it, that your life is worth fighting for, that it's possible to change.

Beyond treatment, we believe that community is essential, that people need other people, that we were never meant to do life alone.

The vision is that community and hope and help would replace secrets and silence.

The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles.

The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in America and around the world.

The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and that we would love ourselves enough to get the help we need.

The vision is better endings. The vision is the restoration of broken families and broken relationships. The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love. The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise. The vision is people becoming incredible parents, people breaking cycles, making change.

The vision is the possibility that your best days are ahead.

The vision is the possibility that we're more loved than we'll ever know.

The vision is hope, and hope is real.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story."

Jamie, the founder of the To Write Love on Her Arms movement, is speaking at Central Christian Church this weekend at 4:30 tonight, 6:00 tonight, 9:00 Sunday morning, 10:20 Sunday Morning, and 11:45 Sunday morning. If you live in Vegas, bring your friends and come check it out.

Crumbs

Yesterday at school I saw a woman walking in the opposite direction from me scattering Pringles crumbs on the side of the grass for the birds. I smiled to myself, and kept walking along the path towards my class. As I walked further I saw more and more crumbs, then I saw birds flying away with entire chips in their mouths. Along the rest of the path there was a frenzy of hungry birds feasting on entire potato chips. Did the woman really pour out an entire can of Pringles to feed the ugly, black, birds that plague the UNLV campus? And why? Crumbs were one thing, a sweet gesture, but an entire can of whole potato chips?

Then, it dawned on me. The same thing that God has been speaking to my heart about for far too long was being played out before my eyes.

I have been giving out crumbs.

I have half-heartedly maintained my relationship with Him and with others. I have put the most important things in my life second, and put the meaningless things first.

I heard a sermon yesterday morning from Flat Irons Church that I had downloaded on my Ipod and listen to when there is a lot of traffic, and basically its come down to this:
I could spend my whole life trying to do more. Experience more. Succeed more. Get better grades and take more classes to graduate faster and fit more into my life.

But God is telling me to stop. Take a time-out. Breathe. Reconnect. Reevaluate.

I've found myself looking forward to the end of things. The next thing coming. I can't wait until this day is over. This month. This semester. College. Can't wait to be pregnant. Until the baby is born. She goes to kindergarten. To college.

How much more am I willing to miss?

I don't want to forget the finer things in life, the things that really matter to me. Like sipping green tea, and immersing myself in books, and writing on the driveway with chalk, or running through sprinklers, or flying kites, or playing scrabble, or blowing bubbles, taking walks and riding bikes and doing all of these things with people I LOVE. Taking time to not just fit people in my schedule, but be there, with them, in ups and downs and in between. I highly doubt that at the end of my life I will be thinking about how I wish I spent more time writing better lesson plans or doing dishes.

The question comes down to this: Based on the pace of life today, the stuff you spend your money on, and the stuff that fills your day planner- what do those things say is most important in your life? What are you counting on to make your life mean something?

Lets navigate through these questions together.
And maybe blow some bubbles and make wishes on dandelions while were at it.

spiritual food

Last Saturday night, Omar, Bob, and I went to take Bob's friend, Slade, to listen to a pianist at a piano bar. Listen is the operative word, because Slade is blind, and has been for his entire life. To be honest, I have never spent any real time with a blind person....or a homeless person. Until now. The past weekend served as a chance for me to see past my inhibitions and misconceptions and into the hearts of some of Gods most treasured children. Rather than give a detailed description of the adventures, which included a challenging and wonderful night with Bob and Slade, and a day with 450 sandwiches, i'll sum it up in pictures. And quotes.

"If someone wants to make a difference or whatever, they should. They shouldn't just keep it inside."
-my darling (almost) 12 year old sister.
"But the needy will not always be forgotten, nor the hope of the afflicted ever perish."
-Psalm 9:18

(the picture says enough, to learn more about my brother, Andrew, click here)


"I would rather be a drunken bum in the streets than a person who thinks of themself as righteous and doesn't take time to love others. If a religion makes you hate people, youve got the wrong religion dude."
- Bob, the musician/homeless man

"We are here with you man. And we are praying. You guys are not in this alone."
-my husband

"Thank you for the food. You done a good job getting us food, and the Lord will bless you, but what we need is spiritual food. Sandwiches waste away, but the Lord can fill us in a way no food ever can. "
-the man in the green beanie

(by the way, I promised this man 20 bibles. If you have any extra bibles lying around, let me know.)

Its so funny what happens to your heart when you love other people.
Jesus has definitely wrecked my life.

Like Shane Claiborne says, "Another world is possible. Another world is already here."

Check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ETBMhEzYKU

Somewhere between the altar and the door

I like things that are real and true. I like Jesus, because He is real, and true. And I like this song, because it is real and true, and I feel it. Maybe you do too? We are not alone. You are not alone.


Somewhere between the hot and the cold
Somewhere between the new and the old
Somewhere between who I am and who I used to be
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Somewhere between the wrong and the right
Somewhere between the darkness and the light
Somewhere between who I was and who You're making me
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control

Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless
abandon wrapped in common sense
Deep water faith in the shallow end
and we are caught in the middle
With eyes wide open to the differences, the God we want and the God who is
But will we trade our dreams for His?
or are we caught in the middle?

Somewhere between my heart and my hands
Somewhere between my faith and my plans
Somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing waves

Somewhere between a whisper and a roar
Somewhere between the altar and the door
Somewhere between contented peace and always wanting more
Somewhere in the middle You'll find me

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control?

Lord, I feel You in this place and I know You're by my side
Loving me even on these nights when I'm caught in the middle
-Casting Crowns

Burning the candle at both ends

If I had a world of my own, I would blog all day, everyday. I am thankful that is not the case, because I wouldnt have a chance to have the many adventures that took place this weekend (which I will share with you as soon as I can) or even this semester.
See, this semester, a typical day looks like this:

5:30 a.m.- Wake up. Snooze. Wake up again. Drink instant breakfast and try not to leave the empty glass on the counter.
6:20 a.m.- Leave for work.
7:00 a.m.- Teach students calendar, weather, lunch menu, play survival signs bingo.
8:00 a.m.- Take students to breakfast, teach social skills, listen to C preach to the other students about how much God loves people, feel blessed to get paid to spend time with these kids and my sweet Younglife girl Becca
9:00 a.m.- Take students to help out at an elementary school or bowling or walk a couple miles to K-mart or get their hair done
11:00 a.m.- Eat, feel grateful for my job, try to avoid the expected crisis involving some kind of outburst, tantrum, crying episode, violence, pray alot (This lasts all day.) Thank God for Mrs. Sparks, the other teacher I work with.
12:00 p.m.- Teach kids how to cooperate and interact appropriately by using the Wii, kids do "jobs"
1:10 p.m.- Leave. Rush home to do homework, write lesson plans for class, take online quiz, eat an orange.
3:15 p.m.- Leave for school
4:00 p.m. - Sit in class, learn, spend time with classmates
9:30 p.m.- Leave school for home, listen to a sermon from Flatironschurch.com or the Juno soundtrack on my Ipod
10:00 p.m.- See husband!!!!!!!! unless he is playing a show/ having a music lesson/ doing homework and unless Secret Life of the American Teenager is on (priorities, people, priorities). Make dinner, spoon, watch George Lopez reruns on Nick at Nite
11:45 p.m.- Fall asleep
5:30 a.m.- Wake up. Snooze. Wake up again. Repeat.

Daily variations:
Tuesday: practicum instead of work. Same time frame.
Wednesday: practicum instead of work, school from 1-3, hang out with Jessica until 4, marriage course at 6:30 then grocery shopping and movie night
Friday: after work, pass out instead of going to school. Hang out with Hubby.
Saturday, clean house, do homework, make dinner for Omar and Bob (his music teacher)
Sunday: Church, spend time with family, finish homework

At some point in the last five years I went from a wild, out of control, unpredictable, spontaneous teenager, to a real, bonafide, wife. My life now involves structure, and schedules, and weekly grocery shopping, and laundry, and a DAY PLANNER, and well I have survived half of a semester living like this, which may be my best accomplishment yet.

For the majority of the my life I have continuously been lectured, usually on a weekly basis, about burning the candle at both ends. And im learning that when you do that, there are consequences. Like a bedroom that looks like its been hit by an atomic bomb and a body that feels like its been run over by a tank. Fortunately, if I can get through the next five hours of school, Secret Life of the American Teenager is on, so all will be right in the world. More later. I promise.

Why I believe in God

After one of my blogfriends wrote a post asking why people believe in God, I've spent the last three days trying to come up with reasons why I do. I came up empty, and then I realized this:

I have no reason other than the fact that my life can be divided into two perfectly distinct parts.
The 17 years that I did not believe in God.
And the 6 that I have.

I was raised with the freedom to believe whatever I wanted to believe about the world. I was taught that God was whatever I wanted God to be.
And when I was seven, I wanted God to be a long haired mermaid, kind of like this:
And when I was thirteen, I prayed my first "testing God" prayer:

"Dear God, If you are real, make my pimple go away"

I woke up the next morning, and voila! My pimple was still there, infiltrating my self-conscious thirteen year old face. I think that was the moment that I silently denounced God.
That same year I came home to my mom and dad and little sister huddled around the t.v. as the events of the Columbine school shooting unfolded. There was a girl named Cassie Bernall, who was held at gunpoint and asked by her proverbial killer if she believed in God. She said yes, and was shot to death moments later.
I could not fathom why anyone would want to die over their belief in someone they had never seen, the invisible man in the sky who did not seem to care enough to heal one measly pimple, much less save a person professing His name from imminent death.
This bothered me alot, and this time, I consciously denounced God's existence.

Thirteen year-old me.

Through high school, in my desperate attempt to find unconditional love in the world, I dated every cute boy that crossed my path. When whatever relationship I was in didnt meet my expectations, I would find myself in another one, simultaneously. Somewhere in the middle of all of this all of these weird people started showing up in my life. It started with my theatre teacher who had WWJD inscribed on everything she owned. I found this quite amusing. Then, there was the crazy guy in my U.S. History Honors class who brought me endless bags of gummy bears and told me repeatedly that God had brought him into my life.
"God?"
"Yes, God. I think God wants me to know you."
"Hmm...neat. Can I copy your homework then?"
Cole Stafford

So, I did. His name was Cole Stafford and he let me copy his homework for the rest of the school year. There was something about him that was so different, something that intrigued me....but not the way every other boy did. He seemed real, like he knew where he came from and he knew where he was going. He invited me to his house and picked all the green ones out of the gummy bear bag, because I thought they were absolutely horrid. He played the guitar for me and invited me to church 234 times. I declined, 233 times. Somewhere between the spring of my Junior year of high school and the fall of my Senior year, I decided I really liked Cole. I had never felt more sincerity or adoration from anyone, and I wanted to know where it came from. When I asked him what made him so different from everyone else, he answered with the same name everytime,
"Jesus."
"Jesus????"

Jesus? The same guy who I, for most of my life, thought was born in a manger on Christmas and died on easter and was resurrected on halloween (ghosts, holy spirit? can you see where the confusion might come into play?), and who I generally knew very little about? That Jesus?

So, I went to church with him. I may have wanted to know, but mostly I had decided that I liked Cole and he had decided that he liked me, but refused to date me unless I went to church with him.
I remember that night well. There was a McDonalds hamburger eating contest, and after three hamburgers I was ready to spend the rest of the night throwing up in the bathroom. Instead, we sat through some songs and a guy with a bible started talking about the world, and the condition of the human heart, and how we all long to love and be loved unconditionally, and how we were created with a hole in hearts and we are desperate to fill that hole and so we try to do that with drugs and alcohol and unfulfilling relationships and accomplishments and just about everything except for the one thing the hole was made for.

Things started hitting home and for the first time in my life I was hearing something true. I had felt the presence of the hole in my life for as far back as I can remember, and I had ignored the hole and tried to fill the hole and done everything except acknowledge that the hole was getting bigger and nothing I tried could fill it.

The guy with the bible went on...
We were created to have a relationship with God but we chose to be independent from God and to go our own way and live our lives however we wanted to, and that broke God's heart because he made us and made us to be with Him and walk through life with Him forever and we chose not to. So, God sent Jesus who died and carried the sins of the world in his death, and that bridged the gap between man and God and gave humans the opportunity to see the extent of Gods love and to see what He was like, and humanity was ultimately reconciled with our creator. And, if we want to, we can have a relationship with God and we can speak to him and hear him and be comforted by him and be whole again.
Something miraculous must have happened in my heart at that point, because I raised my hand when they asked if anyone wanted to commit their life to Christ.

I do not believe that I had a miraculous conversion of any kind, because my relationship with God did not become real at that point. What did occur is that I spent less time trying to fill the void in my heart with anything I could get my hands on, and more time trying to find the ultimate truth. I looked into Buddhism, Catholicism, Mormonism, and even Christianity, and I discovered that no religion was going to meet the growing need in my soul to understand the world around me. I was starting to think about some really weird stuff, like how the human brain works and the mechanics of the eyeball, and sunsets and fish and why humans are so relational and the universe outside of the planet earth.

This led me to open up the bible. In the bible, particularly in Matthew 5-7, my mind was warped by the words of Jesus. I decided that even though I didnt know what I believed about who God was, I wanted to follow Jesus. I wanted to live my life by his words and model my life after his. I wanted to love people, really love people, fully and unselfishly. I wanted to give to anyone who was in need and treat people with love, even if they had hurt me. I was raised with many of these values, but on a much lower scale, and I was slowly discovering that nobody loved people like Jesus loved people.

The problem occured when I kept reading. I had been going to church and had fallen deeply in love with the person of Christ. I was starting to meet more people who called themselves Christians and who actually resembled the Jesus in the bible. People, like Cole, who genuinely cared about other people and lived full lives that werent easily affected by the people around them, these people were so grounded and so true and I got stuck.
I discovered that the bible, and the churches preaching the bible, were saying the same thing. That Jesus is God in human form and that in order to really follow him, you have to believe that. I started talking to God about this, and somewhere along the line I realized that I had become a Christian. I was following Christ and I was making decisions based on the bible and I was trusting God with my life and my heart and my choices, and he was respinding to me. I noticed that somewhere along the line I had become a completely different person, and it was all because of the love of God that had planted in my heart.

I don't have all of the answers about the infinite depths of the universe, but I have grown deeply enamored with the Creator of the universe, the Jesus of the bible, and my mustardseed faith that grew from a tiny little seed into a flourishing tree of life.

The truth is, I hate being a "Christian." I hate being identified with the group of people that have committed heinous crimes in the name of Jesus, I hate the many times that I screw up and treat people less than they deserve to be treated, I hate knowing that the word "Christian" means a million different things to a million different people. But I love knowing that I have a purpose in this enormous world, I love that everyday I wake up knowing that I am loved by an immeasurable God who has changed everything about my heart.

Its important to note that Cole Stafford and I dated for the rest of my Senior year. We broke up because I cheated on him and then he went away to college. In May of 2007 he became a Pastor and got married. In February of 2008, he died unexpectedly. When I think about the time he was on earth and how much his short life changed mine, I am in awe. God is so big, and yet, so intricate. I have no idea where I would be if I had never met Cole Stafford. I hope my life can serve as a tribute to Cole's faith, and that I will never forgot the man who taught me how to love my creator.

If you read this entire entry, i'm impressed, and I will buy you a smoothie.

Just a speck of dust inside a Giant's eye

I am the kind of girl who makes to do lists and then eats ice cream and falls asleep. I am not nearly as intentional as I would like to be, and so often I find myself thinking of things to write on the shower wall with bathtub crayons instead of thinking about what is actually happening right in front of me. And sometimes I will come across a song that conveys my sentiments exactly, and I will wonder why I did not write the song myself and then feel grateful that I didnt because if I had I would still feel like I am the only person in the world that feels that way. And so, Kimya Dawson (who I would love to be friends with but who probably wouldn't think I am very interesting compared to the genius thought patterns in her mind) wrote this song, and I love it. And I think you should listen to it, because it feels like a love song, but isnt.

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights, get out and look up at the sky
And I do this to remind me that I'm really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me

But it's only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I'd be because I've never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything

Rock and roll is fun but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky
Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye

When I saw Geneviève I really liked it when she said
What she said about the giant and the lemmings on the cliff
She said 'I like giants
Especially girl giants
Cause all girls feel too big sometimes
Regardless of their size'

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road and run and jump into the ocean in my clothes
I'm smaller than a poppyseed inside a great big bowl
And the ocean is a giant that can swallow me whole

So I swim for all salvation and I swim to save my soul
But my soul is just a whisper trapped inside a tornado
So I flip to my back and I float and I sing
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything

So I talked to Geneviève and almost cried when she said
That the giant on the cliff wished that she was dead
And the lemmings on the cliff wished that they were dead
So the giant told the lemmings why they ought to live instead

When she thought up all those reasons that they ought to live instead
It made her reconsider all the sad thoughts in her head
So thank you Geneviève, cause you take what is in your head
And you make things that are so beautiful and share them with your friends

We all become important when we realize our goal
Should be to figure out our role within the context of the whole
And yeah, rock and roll is fun, but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky

Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye
And I don't wanna make her cry
Cause I like giants

And if you want to listen to it 3478 times, or once, click here.